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Little Drops of Heaven.

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The storm was approaching, rapidly. The dust was swirling in the distance. The dark clouds loomed large over the towering buildings. The children were running toward home. I watched unmoved.
I wanted to feel the rain on my bare back, to touch the drops as they fell from the sky. To drink the water like it was all just for me. Yet a part of me wanted it all to go away. The rain, the clouds, everything. For them to just vanish into oblivion and never return.
I was kneeling in the middle of the park. Looking up to the sky all I could see were shadows, or perhaps my vision was clouded by my thoughts. Thoughts of a dark past and an unpleasant future that lay in wait.
The lightning crackled through the clouds. It tore through them like a streak of brilliance, the thunder roared along with it. The sky was pitch black now. The lights that shone from the apartments nearby could hardly lighten the dense atmosphere. As the wind brushed past my skin, I saw a drop of water land in front of me on the freshly cut grass. Someone had once told me to live for the moment, to believe in the joy of impulse. I pushed myself up with my hands, stood on my feet and danced in the downpour.



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